


A Strange New Tactic

by Havoka



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Oviposition, Pregnancy Kink, Spiders, im sorry i corrupt every fandom i set foot in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havoka/pseuds/Havoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracer gets shot by Widowmaker's odd bullet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange New Tactic

**Author's Note:**

> Blizzard dangled a free weekend of trying this game in front of my face, so of course I rewarded them by tarnishing their poor characters forever

Tracer rarely got hit. She was always able to duck, dodge, and blink her way out of danger before most foes could strike her. So when she felt something pierce her in the stomach while traveling at top speed, she knew exactly who it had to be. The only one who could track her movements with precise accuracy. Her arch rival.

Her first instinct was to glance upward, toward the rooftops. A disappearing blur of purple confirmed her suspicions. Her hand went then to her stomach, and she dared lower her eyes to check the damage. For being sniped in the stomach, it surprisingly didn’t hurt all that much. In fact it felt more like a nasty bee sting that a bullet wound. As she removed her hand she could see why – she had not been shot with an ordinary bullet. Instead a strange, needle-like apparatus was injected into the tender flesh of her abdomen, with eight metal “legs” securing it in place and a glass hexagonal body filled with some sort of...something.

With widened eyes Tracer hurriedly yanked the strange “bullet” out of her stomach. She wanted to observe it more closely, but a rain of bullets from somewhere ahead prevented further analysis. Tossing the thing to the ground, she blinked out of the way of any more damage.

* * *

 

A lone Reinhardt guarded the objective Tracer’s team needed to claim. Normally Reinhardt’s attacks were no issue at all for Tracer – she was long gone before he could complete a swing with his mighty hammer. But ever since Widowmaker had hit her with that bizarre bullet Tracer was feeling a little sluggish. The injection site had closed up, but her normally form-fitting outfit was now feeling too tight in that area of her body. It was uncomfortable, and it seemed to be slowing her down – she’d already been grazed by one of McCree’s bullets, which almost never happened. As she watched the ignorant Reinhardt from a rooftop she debated whether or not she was in a state to take him on.

“ _Justice rains from above!”_

Without thinking Tracer blinked down from the roof to avoid Pharah’s rain of rockets. There she caught the attention of Reinhardt, who then immediately charged at her. Tracer blinked out of his path, but only made it a few feet before uncharacteristically running out of steam. She slowed down and involuntarily clutched her stomach, which seemed to be swelling up, and groaned. That gave Reinhardt all the time he needed to come up behind her and drive his hammer down. Tracer, not accustomed to being hit so bluntly, was knocked flat by the blow. Her vision was reduced to stars and flashing lights as Reinhardt rushed after his next target.

Not a moment later she heard a sweet, chipper voice before her. “Heroes never die!” A warm energy enveloped her, granting her the strength to sit up. Immediately she took in the sight of Mercy’s weathered but smiling face. The older woman extended a hand to her. Tracer reached for it, but recoiled in pain before she could take it.

“Ohh…” She clutched at her stomach with both hands. It was now bulging noticeably outward, stretching her suit in a manner almost obscene. “I don’t feel s’good…”

Mercy’s smile immediately faded. “Are you all right? Do you want me to take you back to the safe area?”

Tracer considered refusing – she’d be damned if she’d let that prissy Widowmaker knock her out of a fight – but she then experienced a sensation in her stomach that she had never felt before. A sort of internal tickling, like something was moving around inside of her. The pressure was building in her suit, as well. Her outfit needed to be removed ASAP. If she swelled any more she’d probably explode right out of it.

She nodded weakly at Mercy. Mercy lifted her under the arms, seemingly with no effort at all, and dashed to the safe zone as fast as her silly little wings could take them.

* * *

 

“What’s going on, do you think?” Mercy asked as she laid Tracer gently down on a cot. Her eyes drifted downward to Tracer’s bodysuit, which now strained to contain her bloated stomach.

“It was…Widowmaker, I think. She stuck me with something. Don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t any kind of bullet I’ve ever seen.”

Mercy sighed. “Widowmaker…” Her tone carried an obvious note of dismay. “Do you have any idea what it might have been? A toxin, maybe?”

Tracer groaned again. That time she swore she could actually feel her stomach expand. The material of her clothing cut painfully into her sensitive, swollen flesh, reminding her how badly she needed freedom from it.

“I – I need to get out of…my suit…”

Mercy looked her over with concern in her eyes. “Do you need help getting out of it? I’m sure I can find you a – a bathrobe, or something.”

“Arghh!” Tracer squeezed her eyes shut, writhing on the bed. “I think you’re gonna have to cut it off me, love, please…”

“Cut it?” Mercy paled. “I suppose I could…”

After hunting for any sort of sharp object to cut the suit with, Mercy eventually found a small pocket knife in a drawer. She flipped it open and cautiously held it above Tracer’s stomach, which by then had swollen to the point of resembling an early pregnancy. Mercy’s careful hand then sliced the suit right down the middle. The moment the pressure from the fabric was alleviated Tracer’s belly burst outward, jiggling with the residual momentum.

“Oh my,” Mercy whispered to herself.

Momentarily relieved from the horrendous pressure, Tracer allowed herself a sigh of relief. One hand massaged her still-sore skin.

“I’m not sure what to do about this.” Mercy flitted back and forth at her bedside. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Maybe you should be X-rayed or something…”

Suddenly Tracer gasped. Something was definitely moving inside her – and it wanted out. Tracer sat up and stumbled to her feet. “I – I have to go to the...to the lav, I think…”

Mercy hovered around her, clearly noting her uncertainty on her feet. “Are you sure? You can barely walk, you really shouldn’t be–”

A wrenching pain dropped Tracer to her knees. Her body felt as if it were trying to consume itself. She cried out as something horrible and ticklish skittered around inside her. It slipped down into her lower region, continuing the agonizing mixture of tickling and pressure. In her throes of pain Tracer managed to reach out to Mercy, and in a stuttering voice she begged the healer to remove the rest of her suit. She could see the slight reluctance in Mercy’s eyes, but she did as she was asked.

Now utterly naked, Tracer collapsed to the cold floor. Mercy was upon her in a second, ready to pick her up and deposit her back on the cot.

“Oh honey, don’t worry, I’ll get you up – oh my goodness!”

Tracer lifted her head just enough to see what Mercy was shouting about. She gasped when she realized Mercy was hovering a few feet away from her, pointing at Tracer’s exposed nether regions.

A tiny tarantula worked its way out of Tracer’s folds of inner flesh.

Tracer screamed.

“Don’t – don’t panic, Tracer, I’ll help you! Just…stay calm…I’ll…” Mercy reached uncertainly for her, then drew back as Tracer’s body pushed the spider out onto the floor. It skittered away, but was quickly replaced by another crawling out of Tracer.

“Oh God, what’s happenin’ to me??” Tracer cried out as she felt another creature drop down inside her. “What did she do??”

Mercy knelt down in front of her. With a frown she shooed away the handful of spiders that had already found their way out of Tracer. “Looks like she filled you with…spiders. Or maybe spider eggs.”

Tracer groaned as she birthed another arachnid. “I am going…to bloody…kill her…”

For better or worse, the human body and mind being able to adapt to most things, Tracer and Mercy reluctantly worked to get all of the seemingly endless spiders out of Tracer’s body. After a while the initial horror of giving birth to live tarantulas wore off somewhat, leaving Tracer more annoyed and embarrassed than anything. She pushed the rest of them out with Mercy’s gentle assistance.

What seemed like an eternity later her stomach began to return to its normal size, although it was still quite tender from the experience. She sighed as Mercy struggled to round the spiders up in a cardboard box.

“That Widowmaker’s got some dirty tricks, she does…” When Tracer was finally able to stand up, she hurried to find some replacement clothes amidst the junk of the safe area. All the while she muttered to herself about Widowmaker. “Where in the bloody hell does one even come up with something that horrific?? I’m going to get her good next time!”

“Oh, _are you_?”

Tracer froze at the familiar voice. When she dared to look up, her breath caught in her lungs.

Widowmaker was watching her from a nearby rooftop.

“You – you utter... _twat_! I’m coming for you next time!”

Widowmaker smirked. “See you in the next round, _cherie_.”

With that, she was gone.

Tracer sighed and massaged her temples.

_Just another odd day here at Overwatch._


End file.
